Finding Something in the Game
One aspect of my job that I really enjoy is the time I spend observing teachers in their classrooms. Yesterday I was observing our Residential Electricity teacher and his students working on a project renovating our historic Brantview dorm. This was the chapel talk I gave about my experiences.
Walking into the dorm I came upon a conversation between the teacher and his foreman for the day,
“Yeah Mr. Roberts, I remember. You told me about it on Friday!”
It quickly became clear that this student, a junior, was referring to the instructions about wiring a specific outlet, of a particular type, in a certain room, which required a specific type of wiring and outlet box cover. The comment hit me over the head like a sledgehammer…Friday? Really? he remembered all of that from Friday? I often wonder if my Algebra 2 students remember what I say to them 10 minutes after they leave class!
This may not seem like such a big deal to you, and perhaps more context is required. Brantview dorm is a shell only. Behind that beautiful turn of the century gothic revival brick exterior, nothing resembles a dorm or a house, for that matter. If you were to be invited into the dorm, and don the appropriate safety gear, you would see nothing but a maze of framed walls, made of wooden studs, with wires and pipes, snaking in every direction. The floors are filled with students, contractors and vendors, buzzing all through the building. It takes a few minutes to recognize that the collection of 2x4s in front of you are, in fact, a room. I could not believe that this student could remember all of that wiring information for a connection two floors above us. What struck me so profoundly, but simply, was this is what learning looks like. A student engaged applying information in a real context. It was a wonderful reminder.
I was thinking about this interaction on my walk in the predawn morning and it reminded me of some of the things I’ve learned that I can’t forget. One that always comes to mind is the fact that all of the stars that I see when I look deep into those starry nights have burned out long ago, they don't exist now. The stars have gone the way of super novas or black holes. Whether is it universally true or not, as I would imagine there are other ends for stars when they exhaust their fuel, you’d have to ask Mr. Vinton (our veteran astronomy teacher), but the idea gives me a great deal of understanding for the vastness of space and the universe.
I also remember a time in college when a teacher, Michael Jackson (not that one), praised me for an answer I had given on an exam. I had been the only one to realize that the constant given for the dopant in a silicon diffusion gradient problem was not correct. I explained on my exam that the answer could not be right even though it was mathematically correct. It made a deep and lasting impression to me on the value of checking my work. It helped me to form my thoughts about teaching and learning about, valuing the question, the process of understanding and its application; not just regurgitating knowledge.
We all have things we remember that we were taught because we do them so often. Tying the fly on the leader with a knot while standing in a stream, dribbling a basketball or remembering the difference between fewer and less than. Yesterday I was reminded of the role of context in learning, of the application of knowledge, of the power of investment in the product that you are creating in a class. But most importantly of the role of personal momentum in learning. Often times I think we feel it is the teacher's responsibility to create this excitement to make these connections for us. But yesterday I saw that it is the individual learner that has the most direct responsibility for forming this connection and when it happens, the seemingly impossible, becomes reality. When the student supplies the momentum we see learning unfold and it sticks with the learner.
I knew a soccer coach that always asked his players during a game to “find something in the game”. It was a reminder of their responsibility to be involved, to get themselves engaged and invested, to provide the momentum. He had given them the tools, it was their game to play and to love. Yesterday I saw many students in a shell of a 150 year old building finding something in their game, their interests, their jobs. This morning I wanted to thank them for their lesson and allowing me to find something in their game.